It'll all be Okay
by Ensignily
Summary: What you saw and what you didn't see. Just another little Sherolly story.


**A/N: This is just another little Sherolly fic I wrote. I still haven't thought up anything for a continuing story, so any ideas are appreciated. I tried to make this story as realistic as possible to what the characters would say/act, and I'm sorry if I randomly change tense in part of the story.  
Disclaimer: I do not own the work of Mark and Gatiss. :)**

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Molly was heading out of the lab after another long day. She had gathered her stuff and walked towards the door.  
"You're wrong, Molly."  
Sherlock had startled her. Molly had not known he was in the lab, standing in the darkness. How long he had been there, she wasn't sure.  
"You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you," Sherlock stood in the dark, not looking at her. Molly was at a loss of words. He turned his head and looked at her. He appeared worried. "But you were right. I'm not okay."  
"Tell me what's wrong," Molly replied, deeply worried. Though she had offered Sherlock her help, she assumed he wasn't going to consider her offer.  
Sherlock walked towards her slowly. "Molly," he began, "I think I'm going to die."  
Molly would do anything to keep Sherlock from dying. "What d'you need?"  
Stepping closer, he said, "If I wasn't everything that you think I am- everything that I think I am- would you still want to help me?"  
Molly looked up at him. She took a second to comprehend what he was implying. Was he suggesting that he was a fake? "What do you need?" she repeated. Molly could tell that he needed help from her that couldn't be told to anyone.  
Slowly, he stepped closer and closer to Molly, almost into her personal space. Though it was dark, she could see the concern in his eyes, though there was also a glint of sincerity. His voice was so soft it was almost a whisper, and his deep voice that made her tingle almost sounded hoarse, "You."

Sherlock stared into her deep brown eyes, as she stared into his, which were sea green at the moment. "I need you to help me with something. You and Mycroft are the only people who will know that I will be faking my death. I need you to help me."  
Molly was glad that he wouldn't be dying, but will he have to live his life under a lie, and will she as well?  
"But… why?" was all Molly could think to say.  
Stepping even closer to Molly, and talking in an even softer voice, he replied, "It's to save the closest people that can be called my friends. And that includes you."  
Molly was still at a loss of words. He was asking her such big a favor, and it was just so much to understand at once. On top of that, the one person she loved dearly so much was this close to putting his arms around her.  
In fact, he did put his arms around her. Molly slowly started shedding tears. Even Sherlock had glassy eyes. He embraced her in a hug, whispering, "It'll be alright. Remember that I'm trusting you, of all people. You are my friend. I want you to stay safe."  
After a moment of silence, Sherlock continued, "I'm… I'm sorry. For all of the horrible things I've said about you. I deduce everyone automatically, but there are some things that didn't need to be said. I guess… my feelings got rammed up my throat and only the horrible things came out my mouth. I said lies. All lies." His voice was merely a whisper. A small, unsure voice rather than his bold, confident one that didn't seem to care what came out of his mouth.  
Molly had tears streaming down her face. She hugged Sherlock tight. "Somehow, I have always managed to forgive you. And I still forgive you," she replies.  
Sherlock loosened his grip on Molly and looked directly into her eyes.  
"I don't want you to die, even if you are faking it," she managed to say.  
"I know," he whispered back, "I trust you and I always have. I want you to bear with me. I will tell you how I live. You just have to help me."  
"Okay," she says, squeezing her eyes shut. She pulls away from him to wipe her face, now bright red and tear-stained. "I will help you."  
Sherlock faintly smiled. "Thank you, Molly Hooper." Hesitantly, he leaned his head in and kissed her square on the lips. Molly felt her cheeks get even redder than before.

Sherlock hadn't kissed anyone on the lips for any reason; at least _he_ hadn't purposely been the one to do it. He never told John about the strange feelings he would get in his chest whenever she handed him his coffee, or how small things would remind him of her at the strangest of times. Often he would think to himself, _"Sherlock, you fool! Don't say things that don't need to be said!"_ whenever he had hurt her. He didn't like to admit he was in love when the thought first came to him. Sherlock knew that girlfriends would be very out of character for him.  
He could tell Molly wanted to say something but didn't know what to say. She was debating over to respond to him and say, "You're welcome," or to say, "Thank you," for kissing her.  
Sherlock broke the silence. "I need you to listen to me carefully. If either of us screws up, I might have a more permanent outcome than faking."  
Molly looked at him, still unsure of the whole idea but willing to help. "A-alright," she said, still shaking. "But, what if—"  
Sherlock pressed his lips against hers and cut her off. Separating from her slightly, he said, "It will all be okay."

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**Thank you for reading my story. I hope you liked it.** :3  
**~Cameron**


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